GO SEEK HER OUT ALL COURTEOUSLY

by: James Joyce (1882-1941)

O seek her out all courteously,

And say I come,

Wind of spices whose song is ever

Epithalamium.

O, hurry over the dark lands

And run upon the sea

For seas and land shall not divide us

My love and me.

 

Now, wind, of your good courtesy

I pray you go,

And come into her little garden

And sing at her window;

Singing: The bridal wind is blowing

For Love is at his noon;

And soon will your true love be with you,

Soon, O soon.

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